


Rainy Days & Mondays

by track_04



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-22
Updated: 2011-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/pseuds/track_04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will isn't all sunshine and rainbows and monster hunts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Days & Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> This was written post 6.20, so it doesn't really take the season 6 finale into account--so, basically AR after 6.20 and set some unspecified time in the future. I really wanted to write a little something with human!Cas and this particular scene popped into my head.

It's Monday afternoon and it hasn't stopped raining since Thursday. Outside, the sky is overcast and dreary; the parking lot to the truck stop has turned to mud, gunking up the bottom of his boots and, worse yet, his baby's tires, making his already foul mood even worse. He's already snapped at Cas three times since they hit the road this morning and it's just now lunch time. Cas has snapped right back every time--he still hasn't mastered the art of tying his shoes or subtle humor, but he can throw a bitch face that rivals the one Sam makes when he doesn't get his girly ass, overpriced coffee in the morning. Figures.

Meanwhile, Sam has gone into full-on brooding mode and has alternated between looking constipated and like someone ran over his puppy for the past two days, so Dean can't even bitch at him for teaching Cas all of his bad habits. Well, not effectively, anyway. Sam tends not to listen to Dean's ranting when he gets like this.

And Dean... well, Dean doesn't particularly like having to ride around in close quarters with a little brother and a former heavenly being (who might be his best friend, but he's too pissed at the moment to acknowledge as much) caught in the throes of PMS. So sue him if he's a little cranky.

Apparently Team Free Will can survive being hunted by the legions of Heaven and Hell and take on the very Devil himself, but they can't stand up to a little rain. Typical, really.

Dean's just glad none of the dozens of creatures that seem to want them dead (several of which have managed to kill at least one of them at one point or another) have caught on to this.

"I'm going to grab a table." Sam doesn't wait for Dean or Cas to reply before he slouches off, looking all brooding with his stupid hair hanging in his eyes, leaving his brother and the former angel to drip in the doorway in awkward silence.

Dean runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back against his head and stealing a glance at Cas out of the corner of his eye. He looks like a drowned rat standing there, his hair dripping in his eyes and the stupid trench coat that Dean still hasn't managed to talk him into giving up for something a bit more practical hanging sodden from his shoulders. He's glaring daggers at the restaurant in general, and even wet and half-miserable and pissy as all get out, Dean still has to smile a little at the picture he makes.

Apparently ex-angels of the Lord don't enjoy getting wet any more than the rest of the mere mortals around them. Good to know.

"Cas, take off your coat."

The glare that Cas throws his way could cut glass. "For the last time, my coat is _fine_."

"For the love of--I meant take it off so it can dry, not so I can sneak it away from you and throw it out." Dean huffs softly, expression irritated as he waves a hand in front of him. "Seriously, you're making me miserable just looking at you."

Cas' lips draw into a thin line and he eyes Dean, hesitating for a moment before he slides the coat off, movements stiff as he drapes the drenched, dirty material over his arm. Dean's half tempted to grab it and run--there's enough lighter fluid in the trunk of the Impala to burn anything and he could easily make it to the car and take off before Cas could catch up with him (one of the benefits to the other no longer being full of angel-juice, even if thinking about it for too long make Dean's stomach heavy with guilt)--but the way that Cas' shoulders relax a moment later makes him crush the urge.

If Cas wants to keep that damn ugly coat as a safety blanket, who is Dean to argue? He gave up his life (twice), his grace, and nearly lost sight of who he was to save Dean. Letting him keep a smelly eyesore of a coat seems like a small price to pay.

Dean smiles, the expression tired but sincere as he claps Cas on the shoulder, surprised to find that other's shirt dry beneath his hand. Maybe that ugly ass coat is good for something after all. "Let's go find Sam and get some lunch before my stomach eats itself. My treat."

"I don't believe it counts as 'your treat' when you're using a credit card with someone else's name on it."

Dean stares at Cas, watching the corner of his mouth twitch with one of those not-quite-there smiles. He laughs and squeezes his shoulder, nudging him away from the door. "Fine then, Mr. Smartass. You can pay."

Okay, so Cas is human, Dean's baby is covered in mud, and Sam's funk probably has a good half-day left to it at least, but maybe things aren't so bad after all. They're all alive, the world isn't (as far as they know) in danger of ending anytime before dinner, and David Hasselhoff is paying for their shitty truck stop food. Considering their track record, things seem downright rosy.


End file.
